


Picture Perfect

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Category: Glee
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, Future Fic, Language, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1929681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my submission for the Glee Collage Fest prompt ‘Fair’. After losing Best in Show at a local county fair, Kurt is inconsolable, but his gracious boyfriend tries to cheer him up by having a little fun in an old school photo booth. Rated M for sex, language, some tasteless humor (a Dr. Kvorkian reference), and slight exhibitionism. Future fic, AU, humor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picture Perfect

“So, what do you want to do now, babe?” Sebastian asked his sullen boyfriend, trying to pull him from his funk. “We could go get a bite to eat if you want.”

“Oh, sure,” Kurt grumbled, still muttering to himself, festering in his sour mood, only giving his boyfriend half of his attention and most of his ill humor, ”should we treat ourselves to the deep friend Snickers, the deep fried butter, or the deep fried frog’s legs?”

“Well,” Sebastian said, I was thinking…”

“They should just take all that trans fat,” Kurt interrupted, railing on with his tirade, “and inject it straight into our arteries since that’s where it’s going anyway. Either way, we’ll be spending $50 to kill ourselves. I think Dr. Kvorkian charged his patients less than that.”

“I think they have a stand that sells deep friend cheesecake,” Sebastian offered.

Kurt stopped and looked up, squinting ahead and letting that idea wash over him. Eventually, he shook his head, choosing life over cheesecake.

“No,” he said pointedly to make his message clear on the subject of deep friend snack foods and continued to shuffle along, taking up his irate grumbling right where he left off.

“How about we hit the Midway then?” Sebastian suggested, trying to stay upbeat while they steadily melted in the heat. “I’ll buy us a roll of tickets and you can go shoot something.” Sebastian elbowed Kurt playfully on the arm. “I know how much you like to shoot stuff. Huh? Maybe win a flammable polyester teddy bear made by forced labor in a third world country?”

Kurt glared at his boyfriend, a single snarky eyebrow raised, judging him, and then turned his attention back to the asphalt beneath his feet.

“Oh, come on, Kurt!” Sebastian groaned –sticky and exasperated, his sweaty clothes clinging to him and hanging heavily against his body. “We’ve been here over _four_ hours, and so far all we’ve done is look at stupid fucking flowers!”

Kurt stopped again, but this time the glare he turned on Sebastian was murderous.

“My specialty grafted hybrid rosy adenium obesum was perfection,” Kurt growled, punctuating each word with pinched forefinger and thumb stabbing the air. “The white on the petals was flawless and unblemished, the striping was straight and the coloration was saturated throughout. But did I win?”

Sebastian shook his head, his face portraying his sincerest mask of sympathy while internally he groaned out of complete boredom.

“That’s right,” Kurt emphasized. “I didn’t. Instead, they picked some amateur asshole’s triple indigo monstrosity over my carefully cultivated masterpiece. I mean, did you see that putrid thing? And indigo? More like violet. I mean, what was he feeding that thing? Miracle-Gro?”

“I agree,” Sebastian said condescendingly, hoping not to get shredded in lieu of the true victim, who was walking the fair somewhere carrying what should have been Kurt’s Best in Show ribbon.

“Well,” Kurt said, going from pissed off to pouty, stomping his foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum, “go back to the O’Brien Hall and tell the judges to give me my ribbon then.”

Sebastian wrapped his arms around a sulking Kurt, running a soothing hand up his boyfriend’s back, wondering how in the hell he managed to not sweat like a fucking sow in heat beneath the 90 degree Northern California sun. Sebastian looked around them, trying to gauge their distance to the parking lot, his Porsche, and air conditioning, dying to get on the road and drive them straight to the water, when he noticed a line of old-school photo booths lining the fairway.

He grinned, hit by a stroke of genius.

“Hey,” he said, his voice sliding into that sultry register that immediately told Kurt that they were on the precipice of doing something that might get them arrested, “I have an idea that I think will make you feel _much_ better.”

Kurt looked up, still sulking but curious. Sebastian leaned his head to the side, indicating a nearby booth decorated with fading red, blue, and yellow paint on a white background. A stenciled sign overhead beside a dusty TV-looking screen read, “Wacky Wildo’s Photo Booth – $2 for 4 photos”.

Kurt’s face scrunched.

“You want me to get my picture taken to record my failure for posterity?”

“No, princess…” Sebastian rolled his eyes, “I want to fuck you in public, and this photo booth is where that’s going to happen.”

“Shhh!” Kurt jumped, clamping a hand over Sebastian’s mouth a second too late. “We can’t do that here!” Kurt anxiously eyed the tween-agers hanging all around them. No one seemed to pay any attention to the two of them, though – too busy talking and giggling, getting their pictures taken, funny faces with puffed-out cheeks and stuck-out tongues popping up on screens over booths all along the walkway. A cluster of thirteen-somethings laughed and groaned at a series of pictures that flashed on one of the screens showing two of their friends kissing. It was a G-rated kiss – chaste and appropriately awkward – but the two lovebirds featured stumbled away hand-in-hand, biting their lips and blushing bright red.

The image made Kurt smile.

“Of course we can,” Sebastian said, knocking on the booth closest with his closed fist. “These are ancient. They don’t have curtains like the ones at the mall. They have doors.”

Sebastian wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Kurt wasn’t quite as convinced that this was a good idea, but Sebastian sneaked a hand into his back pocket, and he felt himself being persuaded. Unexpectedly, the door Sebastian had knocked on opened and a little boy stepped out, his eyes downcast, kicking at the gravel with disappointment on his face.

He looked up at the two men standing in front of him; his sad brown eyes jumping from one surprised face to the other.

“This one’s a bust, mister,” the boy said, staring back down at his shoes. “I must have put six dollars in there and pressed the red button a hundred times, but it just doesn’t work, and now I’m out all my arcade money.”

Sebastian scoffed.

“Sucks for yo--oomph!”

Kurt cut Sebastian off with a punch to the gut, breaking out of his boyfriend’s embrace.

“Here, sweetie,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his shorts to get his wallet. Kurt thumbed through the bills he had and pulled out a five and a one. “As it turns out, we like them broken.” He winked at the little boy and handed him the money.

The boy clapped his hands and hopped on the balls of his feet, happy to be reunited with his lost currency.

“Thanks!” he crowed, taking the money and skipping away toward the arcade.

“Was that really necessary?” Sebastian groaned, rubbing his sore stomach.

Kurt frowned at his boyfriend.

“You can be such an incredible ass sometimes,” Kurt scolded.

“I also happen to have an incredible ass,” Sebastian said quietly so as not to attract attention to their plan. “Why don’t we get inside that booth so you can find out?”

Sebastian opened the door and Kurt stepped inside with an excited smile.

“I don’t know,” Kurt said warily as he pressed against the wall of the narrow booth to let Sebastian in behind him. “I think I should be on top. I think you’d crush me in here.”

“Suit yourself,” Sebastian said, shutting the wooden door and putting the hook through the eye to secure it. It didn’t look like the most steadfast locking system to Kurt, but when Sebastian pressed a hand against it, the door wiggled slightly, but didn’t move any farther.

Sebastian closed in on Kurt, ready to kiss him, but Kurt put a hand to his chest and stopped him.

“I’m all for romance,” Kurt said, unbuttoning Sebastian’s shorts and steering him toward the tiny red stool in the center of the booth, “but it’s about a thousand degrees in here, so I suggest we get to this before we roast like Cornish game hens.”

“Mmmm,” Sebastian hummed, watching Kurt undo the button of his owns shorts with hungry eyes, “I love it when you’re so commanding…and when you talk about food. Shit! I really am hungry.”

Kurt rolled his eyes as he turned around, settling over Sebastian’s hard cock, balancing on the balls of his feet so as not to slip too far forward.

“When we’re done here, I’ll get you one of those huge turkey legs we saw near the entrance.”

“I’d rather eat _your_ entrance,” Sebastian said around a moan as Kurt’s sweat-slicked body slid over him, his immense heat adding to the heat around them, “but I could so go for a turkey leg right now.”

Kurt bit back a snide comment and whimpered as he took his boyfriend deep inside his body, throwing his head back with a muffled moan.

The temperature in the booth soared instantly with the two of them locked in it, and Kurt finally started to sweat, but that didn’t matter once he slid completely down over Sebastian’s cock and began to move. The tight fit in the ancient booth didn’t allow any room for Sebastian to pound up into his boyfriend, but Kurt, finding this position to be exceptionally suited for hitting that spot where he desperately needed his boyfriend’s attention, was already doing all the work. All Sebastian needed to do was sit back and enjoy the ride.

Kurt worked smoothly over Sebastian’s cock, thighs burning as he moved up and down, sweat rolling off his skin and falling in heavy drops to the floor. He leaned forward and rested his hands against the glass of the darkened viewfinder, his sweaty palms sliding across the various green and red buttons as they slipped down the slick surface. He braced against the wall for leverage, pushing down into Sebastian’s lap, slapping his ass down harder and harder with an obscene, wet _thwapping_ sound.

“That’s it,” Sebastian panted into the heavy air, swallowing it in big gulps, fighting the heat to breath, “fuck me, baby. God, yes.” Sebastian’s hands shook with the intensity of the suffocating humidity and the corresponding fire of his orgasm roaring in his stomach, begging for release.

“I…I’m going to cum,” Kurt whimpered, still trying hard to stay quiet though at this point he realized it was probably moot. The little booth shook with every movement, and on top of that, Sebastian had no concept of quiet, cursing almost non-stop now that he was so close. Somebody had to know what was going on in there, and Kurt wasn’t looking forward to facing the crowd outside when they were done.

But just as the fear crept into his brain, it was shoved out again by the dizzying orgasm beating into his skull, stealing his strength and his breath, almost relieving him of consciousness as well. The surge of blood rushing away from his brain sent lights and stars swirling around his head, flashing in front of his eyes, so powerful he swore he saw them light the room around them.

“Oh…oh my God,” Kurt mumbled.

“Kurt?”

“That was…that was extreme,” Kurt continued, giddy and lightheaded.

“Uh…Kurt?” Sebastian’s sweaty hands tugged up Kurt’s shorts, but Kurt didn’t mind. He kind of liked it when Sebastian took care of him.

“Now I know why men fuck in bath houses,” Kurt chuckled, standing on shaking legs to help Sebastian dress him, “because that…”

“Kurt…” Sebastian pulled up Kurt’s shorts almost roughly, doing the button and zipper as best he could with fingers that refused to cooperate.

“There’s no way I’m going to Zumba tonight,” Kurt sighed. “I must have lost 20 pounds…”

“Kurt!” Sebastian stood, pushing Kurt to a completely standing position and quickly fumbling with his own shorts.

“What the fuck!?” Kurt scowled. “This was your…”

Kurt stopped to take a breath, and that’s when he heard it – gasping and giggling, accompanied by a clicking sound that he could hear overhead. Another click and the giggling turned into a wave of uncontrollable laughter. Kurt’s muddied mind discerned the source of the laughter, and his sweaty face lost all its color.

“Oh no,” he whispered through quivering lips. “Oh my God, no.”

“Kurt,” Sebastian said, sounding much more sober and in control of his mental faculties than his boyfriend. “We’ve got to go now!”

Before a horrified Kurt could object, Sebastian grabbed Kurt’s hand and unlocked the door. Sebastian kicked the door open, the wooden slab slightly stuck in its frame from being swollen by the heat. Air from outside sucked in, cooling their sweat-soaked bodies. Only then did it hit Kurt just how hot it had to have been in that booth if a gush of 90 degree air felt like a cool breeze.

Sebastian dragged Kurt out into the open, squinting into the bright, white sunlight that blinded them both.

Their exit from the booth was met with hooting and hollering, whistles, catcalls, and a roar of thunderous applause.

Kurt’s vision was slow to recover and he was grateful for that. He was already glowing red to his roots and barely able to walk.

Sebastian, however, calmer in the face of a crisis than Kurt had ever been, tossed Kurt over his in a fireman’s carry and sprinted through the crowd.

“Out of my way! Out of my way!” he called as he ran, though Kurt could distinctly hear the sound of a few high-fives being given along the way.

“Did you grab the pictures?” Kurt asked, hiding his face, on the brink of tears.

“Yup,” Sebastian said with a laugh. “They look great!”

Kurt’s head snapped up and he blinked his vision clear in enough time to catch the last few images scrolling across the screen, separated by a series of circa-1980s cut-aways and dissolves, of his own contorted face, mouth open, eyes rolled back in his head, in the throes of his sweaty orgasm. Bystanders snickered, turning and pointing at the retreating couple as they connected the face filling the screen with the man currently being carried away.

Sebastian’s face, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“It…it’s just me!” he stammered in horror. “The camera only caught me!”

“I’m afraid so,” Sebastian said, swallowing his laugh and blowing through the exit of the fair before someone could think of contacting security.

“Ho-how many pictures were there?” Kurt asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

“Twelve,” Sebastian said, and this time he had to laugh. “We sure got that kid’s money’s worth.”

Kurt smacked Sebastian’s shoulder hard, and kept smacking him until they reached the car.

“What the fuck, Kurt?” Sebastian dropped Kurt on his feet and unlocked the car door.

“Sebastian!” Kurt cried. “A crowd of kids and parents just saw twelve pictures of my ‘o’ face!”

Sebastian smirked, putting a hand on Kurt’s shoulder and pushing him gently into the car.

“They should consider themselves lucky, babe,” Sebastian said with a wink. “It _is_ pretty spectacular.”

Sebastian closed the door and rounded to his side. He got into the driver’s seat and found Kurt sitting back in his seat with his head buried in his hands.

“This is the absolute worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Kurt whined, shaking his head back and forth.

“Hey!” Sebastian griped, starting the car. He pressed the gas pedal and let the car purr in idle before shifting to drive and heading out of the parking lot. “I think you’re forgetting the real victim here.”

Kurt turned his head quickly to face Sebastian, glowering indignantly, a bitter grimace on his tear-stained face.

“And who would that be?” Kurt sniffled. “Those poor children whose innocence I just ripped from them?”

“No,” Sebastian said, pulling onto the highway. “Me! I’m still starving and I didn’t get my turkey leg.”


End file.
